


Every time you wake me up, I hate you a little less

by CockAsInTheBird



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Bottom Billy Hargrove, But chapter 3 has, Coming Untouched, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Dry Humping, Frottage, Grinding, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Masturbation, Neighbors, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Smoking, They're both verses in this story, Vomiting, Voyeurism, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24421270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CockAsInTheBird/pseuds/CockAsInTheBird
Summary: The first time Steve is woken up at night, it's because Billy's near blackout drunk and cannot find the right fucking door, and wow he needs a hand if he's not going to pass out in the hallway of their apartment complex.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 34
Kudos: 367





	1. Taste of Vomit

**Author's Note:**

> Just a double warning - Billy does throw up, so there's that... drink responsibly, ya'll!

The clock on his bedside table reads 3:57am, and Steve has just barely managed to fall asleep after having spent countless hours re-reading the same stupid fucking paragraph for his history class at night school.

When he's jostled awake by Daisy growling and lightly _woofing_ at the front door to his tiny studio apartment. And maybe it's because he lives in a shady neighborhood, or because Daisy never even growls, but Steve is wide awake _immediately_ ; he jumps up from his mattress, grabs the bat he hides underneath his bed, and knocks over several stacks of papers and books as he maneuvers through the night. Adrenaline rushes through him and there's a cold sweat forming down his back, dripping into the nerves that swirls in the pit of his stomach.

He's lived here close to a year by now, and there's never been trouble before, but you can never be too sure. Better safe than sorry, and all that.

There's metal scratching against his wooden front door, and the knob jiggles in irritated bursts; the sounds persistent although harmless so far.

“Daisy, stay,” Steve whispers to his gorgeous golden retriever, and sneaks his way to the front door, both hands wrapped hard around the wooden baseball bat.

But when he looks through the peephole in the door, he sees...

“ _Billy?_ ” he sighs and all that adrenaline, ready to fight, drains out.

The bat suddenly so heavy in his hands, he places it against a wall and - reluctantly so - opens the door.

An action that scares Billy Hargrove enough to take a few steps back, feet staggering and eyes squinting. His cheeks are flushed red, the buttons on his shirt in the wrong holes, and the zipper on his jeans open.

Must have been a fun night.

“ _Steve_?” And it's the first time he's ever used that name before. He sways a bit, bent over slightly and tries to look past Steve and into his apartment. With his own key held up, he slurs out, “What are you... doing in my apartment?”

Steve sighs. He runs a hand up his tired face and through his unkempt hair. Squints as well; the light in the hallway too fucking bright for it to be around 4am. “This is _my_ apartment. Yours is next door.” He points to the right.

Billy looks to his left. “Oh...” Then to his right, then left again. “Well _excuse me, princess_ , all the doors look the same-”

Without warning, he bends over and _vomits_ all over the linoleum floor; blue and green blending together on top of the dark floor, sounding something so wretched as he empties out his night in front of Steve.

Who, eyes now blown wide open, stands petrified. He can't blink as he watches Billy bent over like that, hands on his knees and hair just barely missing the disgusting stream.

And when it all stops, Billy whips back up and takes a _deep breath_ of relatable relief. “Fuck, that was just what I needed,” he mumbles and spits.

He still sways when he stands up, possibly even worse now, eyes heavy and so so tired. “I'll see you later, _Stevie_.” But when he tries to walk away, trips over _literally nothing_.

“Wait, you-” Steve wakes up with a slight startle as Billy nearly lands on his face. “Let me help you.”

Maybe he wants to help because _what a pathetic sight_ , or because the odds of Billy making it through his own door seem incredibly low now, or maybe it's because that he's _Billy_ , and Steve knows how hard life is for him right now.

Oddly enough, Billy doesn't resist when his ex-rival offers support with an arm around his waist to keep him standing. No he lets Steve take the keys from his numb fingers, slides the right key into the right door, and it clicks.

“Open Sesame,” Steve jokes, and enjoys the little huff of a laugh from Billy far too much.

  
  


It's the first time he's ever been inside of Billy's apartment, but it looks all the same, just mirrored. They share a wall between bathrooms, and where they both have placed their beds against the window that leads to their fire escape.

The curtains are drawn, letting in just a bit of a yellow glow from the street lights, and Steve can see how... surprisingly clean it is- _well_ , compared to his own mess of course.

The kitchen doesn't look like it's ever been used, but he knows that Billy loves to cook, he can smell it those few days he's home by 6pm, and it's always such a heaven sent aroma. Four chairs have been tugged under a tiny square table, and there's no couch to be seen, but that space is being utilized for the sake of weights and a workout bench. Instead he finds the TV and speakers facing the bed by the window, and the covers here the only thing that hasn't been neatly fixed today.

“Wuh... what are you doing in my apartment, Stevie?” Billy asks and slumps his head against Steve's. “ _Stevie... Stevie... Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,_ ” he chants over and over again.

And Steve feels his heart beat in tandem with how _lovely_ it sounds coming from beneath that mustache. “I'm trying to get you to bed.”

“Oh, is that so?”

If Steve could see how the lips curled around those words, he wouldn't have been nearly as surprised when-

Billy, suddenly so certain in every movement, pushes him against the wall next to the bathroom door and grabs his hands to hold them above their heads.

“Y'could have just asked nicely,” Billy _purrs_ , nose against nose. “I wouldn't have said no.”

“Billy, what are you-” his words stolen by a mouth that presses against his own, and it's...

 _Horrible_. All clumsy lips, sharp teeth that bites, and tongue that invades him with that _disgusting taste of puke_.

Steve hasn't been kissed in forever, and this is not at all how he hoped the next one would have gone.

“Billy, _stop_ , you taste like shit!” he groans and gags and turns his head aside, quickly, as to avoid further inspection of his mouth by that inquisitive tongue.

“ _Mmm_ but you taste _so good, pretty boy_ ,” Billy drawls with burning kisses down Steve's neck.

He could get free easily if he wanted to; feels the hands around his wrists barely apply pressure there, the gesture more tentative than forceful, but _it's been so long since anyone desired him so_. Every time those lips touch against a new spot on his neck, it shoots through him, bringing out a familiar heat he hasn't experienced in _far too long_.

So he doesn't struggle. And when Billy notices, he gathers both wrists in one hand, so that the free one can fly down to sneak under the tee Steve wears to bed. Sucks on the skin wherever he can, the collar of the shirt doing its best to restrict him from going too far down.

“ _Ah, fuck, Billy_ ,” Steve _almost_ moans out, and turns his head aside to allow better access to skin that is _itching for wet lips_.

The hand that has barely crawled up under Steve's shirt changes direction immediately at those little noises he lets slip, and goes _down, behind him_ , grabs a crude handful of ass through his boxers and _squeezes, eliciting more of those effervescent sounds_.

“ _Stevie,_ ” Billy groans out and _brings their hips together_ , urged closer by the hand on Steve's behind.

Bodies flush, ecstatic and-

“Are you hard?!” Steve gasps but doesn't move back as he's met with a _steely bulge_ beneath the denim, because-

“ _So are you_ ,” Billy growls and lifts his head up. He licks his lips suggestively and stares at how _utterly turned on Steve looks_ , cheek visibly red even in the dim light, eyes dark and lids heavy as he stares back. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Don't, you taste like vomit and alcohol,” Steve complains and wants to move his head, but he's caught in that little border of clear blue around the blown pupils.

“Is that the only reason I shouldn't kiss you right now?” Billy asks, voice all low and bawdy.

Steve can feel his own heartbeat _everywhere_ ; high in his throat, low in his full erection. He swallows hard, before croaking out, “ _Yes_.”

“So you'd let me kiss you any other day?” Billy's voice so _gentle_ and _hopeful_ , despite how blurry his words come out.

And this time Steve is the one to move; he _pushes out his hips_ , gasping at how their _hard cocks_ grind together, as if to put emphasis on his, “ _Yes._ ”

“Tomorrow?” Billy's hand forces Steve's hips back against the wall, but his own body follows suit, groaning with delight as he ensures their _aching dicks never lose contact_.

“ _Mmmh yes, yes, fuck-_ ” Steve nods erratically and looks down at where there's too many layers between them. “B-but Billy, you have to stop, _please_.”

It's all too much for him, he can feel how he's already leaking wildly after years of being near celibate. Not his decision, of course, but he's lost all touch with the ladies, and he's only ever trusted one guy before to do... _this_ kind of stuff with. And if he's ever going to do _anything_ with Billy, he wants them both to be sober... or both of them to be drunk, but not like this.

And Billy stops. Vanishes completely, as he pulls away to lean against the opposite wall of the small hallway; head _thunks_ a bit too hard against the wall, but he's too blasted to feel it. He's breathless and slightly sweaty across his brow.

“I should have kissed you while I could,” he mumbles and smiles lightly.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks and adjusts himself in his trunks, it almost hurts when he's _not_ being touched right now.

“Back in high school... I had so many opportunities, but I was scared.” Billy never looks away from Steve's gaze, even as he speaks so honestly under the influence of _who knows how much alcohol_.

“Scared of what?”

“Rejection,” there's a pause as he takes a deep, shaky inhale. “Would you have let me kiss you back then?”

“I... I don't know...” And he _doesn't_.

Sure, Steve tried a few things, experimented back when he was a teenager, which feels like ten years ago by now, although it's barely been 4. But would he have dared try experimenting with Billy instead? Maybe his entire life would have been different now if he had.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm tired...” Billy starts gliding down the wall.

“No, don't-!” Steve's quickly by his side again, pulling his arm over his shoulders to keep him upright just for a little bit yet. “Come on, your bed is _right there_.”

And it really doesn't take more than a few steps to move across the studio apartment, to where Steve practically _throws_ Billy onto his creaky bed, face first into a pillow.

He doesn't move again, and Steve can't help but smile softly at how those golden curls spread out, oh how he just wants to brush them aside and stare at those freckles all night.

Instead he goes to the kitchen and brings back a glass of water, then unties his boots and lifts Billy's legs onto the bed. He is _not_ going to undress him, not after what _almost happened_ just before.

“Hey Steve?” Billy mutters just as Steve has turned toward the door.

“Yeah Billy?”

“I'm gonna kiss you tomorrow.”

And Steve huffs out an appreciative laugh and smiles from ear to ear; something he'd be shy about if anyone could see it. “Sure you are.”


	2. Can't sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second time Steve gets woken up in the middle of the night, it's with Billy's voice in his ear, and the smell of cigarettes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning: This mentions Neil and his... "parenting"

“Hey Harrington, you up?” a voice calls from somewhere outside of his empty dreams.

“Mmh what?” Steve asks with eyes still closed, words all blurry and slow.

“Are you awake?”

“No, now go away!” he grumbles back and turns around in bed.

But Billy simply chuckles lowly. “You want me to leave my own bed?”

Steve sits up _immediately_ , mind foggy with sleep but startled and bewildered as he looks around and pats his empty bed, heart racing at the thought of having somehow ended up together with Hargrove.

He's definitely alone, in his own bed, Daisy asleep on the floor next to him... did he dream that? About Billy? Then he catches a whiff of smoke from outside on the fire escape, seeping in through the small crack of his open window. Eyes can't help but roll around, accompanied by a tired and irritated groan, as he slips his fingers underneath the window to pull it up and leans out to find-

Billy Hargrove, his next door neighbor, leaning out of his own window with a cigarette between his lips and bags under his eyes. He looks so... _sullen_ , the way there's no life inside those ocean blues that stare at nothing.

This is a no-smoking complex, but they also don't allow for pets, so Steve decides not to comment on it.

Finally Billy turns to where Steve's looking back, hair a hilarious mess and eyes of honey all soft and... _concerned_.

“What are you lookin' at?” Billy mumbles around the Marlboro red, voice edged with frustration at how Steve's staring at him, like he's something so sad to be pitied.

“Why are you awake? It's...” Steve's head ducks inside to look at his clock. “Fuck, it's 4am!”

“Can't sleep.” An answer so simple and honest and _idiotic_.

So Steve groans again, rubs his eyes rather than rolling them. “Yeah no shit.”

And maybe he doesn't _entirely_ hate how Billy huffs a laugh at that, at how his lips twist up for a short second.

The world is quiet, all the lights in the windows of the city extinguished by slumber, and the night sky is clear for all of the universe to see the only two souls awake here.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve offers as an olive branch, but the response is as he expected-

“Nah,” Billy says short and cut.

Silence passes over them, and Steve still thinks this could be a dream, somehow. It's the calmest moment they've ever shared, _unrealistically so_. He doesn't know what to say or how to continue, but he has no issue with dropping that burden, because Billy was the one that woke _him_ up.

“I'm just...” Billy exhales after a deep drag, and stares at the embers that falls from his cigarette. “Working through some stuff, and...” another hesitant pause. “I dunno, my head wont shut up sometimes.”

All Steve feels he can do is nod and say, “Yeah I... I can relate to that.”

And Billy nods as well, because he can only imagine what kind of shit someone goes through without _any_ parental roles like that. He takes a shallow puff of his cigarette, then offers it to Steve, as far as he can reach, at least.

 _His olive branch_.

Steve isn't big on smoking, but he doesn't want to say no to Billy right now, and takes a superficial drag, but oh the memories smoking brings back, as he tastes the tobacco and holds it in.

“Why are you up?” Billy asks, forgetful in the trance of how Steve lets the smoke slip gently from parted lips. _Pretty, pink lips_.

But he's jostled awake when Steve turns to look at him with a slight smile and wrinkled brows. “You know why I'm awake.”

 _Oh. Right._ Billy wets his lips, steals a quick glance down at Steve's mouth, then up again to meet honeyed eyes that probably caught him doing so. “Yeah... you can go back to sleep, it's fine.”

The way that his gaze falters, corners of his lips retreats, and a hand running through his hair says more than enough.

 _Billy doesn't want to be alone_.

Steve shifts around, vanishes briefly inside again then emerges feet first, as he crawls out of his window and out to sit on the chilly metal staircase. And he offers the last bit of the cigarette back to Billy.

Who smiles, and if it wasn't for the dim lights from streetlamps, Steve might think that he can see a blush dust across sun-kissed skin, as Billy also crawls out and sits a safe distance away from the other.

“So... how's life?” A rather awkward and dry attempt to fill the dead silence.

But Steve appreciates the effort even so, and can't help but smile at it. “Life's... good. Well, as good as can be right now.”

Billy simply hums a confirmation that he heard those words, and keeps staring into the dead of the night.

How do you even carry a casual conversation with someone you used to hate? Someone you used to loathe and despise?

“I'm working three jobs, attending night school to hopefully get my GED, and... that's it,” Steve says with a defeated shrug, then bumps his head against the brick wall.

“What, no social life?” Billy extinguishes the cigarette butt and flicks it out onto the street. “No girlfriend or...”

_Or?_

“Does it sound like I have time?” Steve laughs and turns his head slightly towards Billy, who smiles and nods.

“Not doing too hot without your daddy's wallet?” His grin all mean and teasing.

“Hey,” Steve starts with and points, “You know damn well that even _with_ my father's money, I was hopeless.”

And the way Billy chortles makes the self deprecation worth it.

“Yeah you were a mess in high school, Harrington.”

“I still am!” Steve gestures to himself and shakes his head with a goofy smile. “I'm 22 years old doing high school level homework, and I suck at it!”

Billy's shoulders jump as he fights a too loud laugh, but his lips can not go higher, and he bites down on his tongue as he turns to look at Steve. “I could try and help you out, if you ever need it.”

And Steve is _stunned_. Is Billy fucking Hargrove actually offering to... _help?!_ Again this feels more like a dream than reality. But he sounds honest, although the way he then licks his lips isn't very... _friendly_.

When he can eventually look away from that _inviting mouth_ , Steve says, “Oh yeah? Think you're that much better than me?”

“3.3 GPA, so, yeah.” Billy's smirk all confident and cocky, but it's his words that shocks Steve the most.

“Wait really?”

“What? Don't let the big muscles and bad boy attitude fool you,” Billy huffs a laugh, “I always did my homework. Wasn't always very good at it, but it got done.”

“Fuck.” Steve rubs his face with both hands. Even his damn school bully did better than him. “I'll appreciate all the help I can get,” he sighs and looks at Billy again.

Their gazes lock as silence falls upon them once more. There's a certain energy between them; less charged and tense than usual, mostly when they interacted it was to complain about the other playing too loud music or rummaging around in the middle of the night. But tonight's been almost... _nice_.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“How's life?” Steve rests his head on his arms where they're crossed above his knees.

“Oh...” And Billy looks away again, with a sudden gloomy expression; eyes cast down on his bare feet. “It's... I don't want to talk about that now.”

Steve scoots closer. “Billy-”

“I said I don't want to talk about it!” he snaps back with his teeth exposed.

“I know! I know- just...” Steve's close enough to feel the other's body heat. “If you ever do want to talk about it with someone... someone who _knows_ , then I'm just on the other side of your wall.”

“Someone who knows _what_?” Billy's voice like acid now, so quick to put up his guard, his posture goes from relaxed to defensive. “What the fuck do you know, King Steve?”

“Billy-”

“You don't know shit all, Harrington.”

But he does. Not from first hand experience, no, Steve noticed the bruises and gashes on Billy's skin whenever they were in the locker rooms, and he _knew_ where they came from. Once saw Neil _punch_ Billy in the parking lot at the Starcourt mall.

“I'm sorry, Billy, I just thought-”

“Well you thought wrong,” Billy grunts out with his face turned away, and goes to stand up when-

Steve grabs on to the sleeve of his tee. “Please, I'm sorry, don't go.”

Oh the pain of guilt near unbearable, it stabs him in the chest and burns his lungs, clumps together in his throat to a point where it hurts to swallow. All Steve wants to do is help. Offer up an open ear and probably give some tame advice. He just wants to be useful to _someone again_.

And it comes as a surprise when Billy sighs, forcefully so, and sits down again, although he avoids looking at Steve. Whose hand remains on his arm.

Billy's arm is just so _warm_ and _firm_.

“So you're a mechanic now, right?” Steve _tries_.

“Yeah,” Billy says, voice low and _exhausted_. “I'm saving up to go to California.”

Steve can't help the smile, because of course he is. Billy is everything Californian personified. Tan skin, bare chest, golden hair, an ocean's view in his eyes. “You miss surfing?”

“Every single day,” he says with a smile as well; a dear lift of the lips in remembrance of blue waves carrying him smoothly across water. “I don't really know what I wanna do with my life, but... whatever it is, it's in Cali,” he sounds all dreamy and blissful at that.

And Steve sees something in Billy he's never seen before... something near _serene_ and _happy_. A man in love, perhaps. In love with the sun, the beach, the endless summer, and the freedom that the sea offers. If he could, he would frame this exact moment in his mind forever, and stares as if he's trying to.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Billy grins and cocks a brow as he notices how he's being gawked at.

Rather than saying anything, Steve pulls on the sleeve and leans in to meet Billy halfway. Sweet lips touch gently; _tentative_ and asking “ _is this ok?_ ” Eyes closed as he enjoys the softness of the embrace, and even the tickle and prickle of that mustache.

Steve has no clue what really urged him to _kiss Billy_ , just knows that he _craved_ to find out what that beatific expression felt like on his skin. And it is a thousand times better than when they last kissed – when Billy had been drunk as a skunk and pushed him against a wall.

Billy doesn't move away. Actually, he doesn't move at all. Locked in time and space, planted like an oh so pretty flower, letting Steve press his lips against Billy's own.

Then Steve moves away to catch the how Billy's eyes are closed; a thousand lashes grazing against red hot cheeks, brows raised high and knit together with _elation?_ But they change quickly into something _dissatisfied_ , almost _annoyed_ , and the corners of his lips twitch.

And without opening his eyes, Billy reaches out to grab Steve by the sides of his face, rough and calloused hands on smooth and well shaven skin, to pull him right back. This time much more _heated_ , as Billy turns his head to get as close as physically possible with Steve's lips, who moves into it with just as much _fervor_.

There's no hesitation this time; he grabs on with both hands in Billy's shirt in hopes that it'll keep him near. And Steve dares to go for more; opens his mouth to lick at the seams of Billy's lips, just to then be _immediately_ invaded by the _sweet taste_ and _wet heat_ of his tongue. He can't help but let out a slight _moan_ at the sensation, just to be so answered by a _pleased growl_ from inside Billy's chest.

He feels like his heart is going to burst out through his ribs and go dancing around the street, blood pumping in _euphoric streams_.

“ _Mmh Billy,_ ” he whines out with their shared breath.

Words that moves Billy – makes him crawl closer to the source, in between Steve's legs that spread around sturdy hips and locks his feet together behind Billy's back.

“ _Fuck Stevie,_ ” he groans out and presses their bodies flush together; a connection that sends sparks through both of them as their _growing erections meet_. “I've been wanting to kiss you for so long, you can't even imagine.”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

But he can, because Billy already told him that last time he was woken abruptly in the middle of the night. Although he didn't expect Billy to remember, considering how absolutely blasted he had been.

“ _Yeah,_ ” Billy breathes out through a wide grin. He runs his thumb along Steve's lower lip, and pulls at it gently.

And Steve can sense Billy's heartbeat so vividly, it feels like his own, body heat blending together as if they were one person.

“From the moment I saw you in the parking lot. You were staring; eyes so big and brown like saucers.”

“Everyone was staring,” Steve says with a smile, and bends forward to kiss along Billy's jaw.

“Of course, but it only matters that _you_ did.” Billy turns his head to allow better access to his neck. “ _Mmmh_ , and then I saw you at Tina's party, looking _so handsome_ , I wanted to just take you into the bathroom and...” He stops talking, as if the next words could startle Steve and scare him away.

“ _And?_ ” The anticipation of what comes after near painful down where they've stilled all movement to appreciate how _intimate_ they are seated.

Billy turns to catch those lips again, prying open to get back inside, as his hands travels down Steve's chest, over the soft tee to then snake their way behind him. Grabs on with _confidence_ and _indecent intentions_ , just to keep Steve stock-still as Billy _rolls his hips into the embrace of hard flesh_.

“ _A-ah-_ ” Steve moans with the most restraint he can and grabs on to broad shoulders for support. “ _Mmh- ah- fuck, Billy._ ”

Billy licks Steve flat across his cheek, continues _grinding their filling dicks together_ , groaning and huffing with that usual twist of his lips. “Wanted to take you into the bathroom and _fuck myself on that pretty little mouth_ ,” he drawls in continuation.

And Steve eats it right up - feels the idea of that _girthy cock in his mouth_ push at his boundaries, and the testing of his _stability_ only excites him more, feels himself _leak in his tight trunks_.

“Then I'd _eat you out so good, your knees would tremble for me_.” He bites and nibbles at Steve's ear, breath hot and _intoxicating_. “And then I'd see how much of my _big dick you could take in your sweet, plump ass_.”

“ _Oh, Billy-_ ”

“ _Yeah_ ,” he chuckles deep and _sensuous_. “I'd have you moaning _all night long_.”

“ _Fuck-_ ” if that doesn't sound _amazing_ in it's own time and way, but- “Y-you have to _stop, please_.”

Although with an _irritated groan_ , Billy stops thrusting their leaking pricks together, and moves away till only their legs touch. His chest is heaving and skin damp, giving away the fact that he might have been _closer_ than he led on.

“What's the matter, _pretty boy?_ ” he speaks with a humored grin, and wags his tongue. “Never been with a guy before?”

“No I have-”

And the look on Billy's face clearly speaks to how he didn't expect that answer.

“-but only with one guy, and it's been... years. A-and I'm not quite sure I'm ready to try it again yet, I'm sorry...”

Billy sucks his teeth and can't help the _bothered roll of his eyes_. “Steve, you have _nothing_ to apologize for. I know that this isn't something for everyone, and I am never going to force you to do anything you don't want to.”

It dawns on Steve that he wasn't rolling his eyes and frowning because he's _upset that Steve said no_ , but because he's _troubled with how Steve felt the need to apologize for it_.

“I want to!” he utters before really thinking about it, _but he does_. His hand goes to gingerly grab for Billy's. “I'm just not... there yet, y'know?”

“Mhm, I get it,” Billy's voice so unfamiliarly soft and _delicate_. “It's about trust, and I haven't ever really done anything to earn that, have I?”

Steve laughs. “No, not recently.”

“Not _ever_ ,” Billy laughs too, and intertwines their fingers. “But I can work on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm... maybe next time


	3. Thump, Thump, Thump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The third time Steve is woken up at night, Billy's drunk once again, but this time he isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some proper E rated content up in this story!!

At around 2am on a Saturday night, a door slams so forcibly that it echoes through the entire apartment complex. Loud enough for Daisy to raise her head, and for Steve to jump awake with a startled gasp.

He's clutching at his covers, mind fuddled with the haze that comes from deep slumber, and looks around for a bit till his heart settles down again.

“Fucking Hargrove,” he groans and throws himself at his pillow again.

Through the wall he can hear Billy stumbling around, drunk again no doubt, and from the sounds of it, he's not alone.

Two pairs of feet walk with an unsteady rhythm from the front door and through the apartment. Two voices, both low and gruff, talking indistinctly through moans and groans. Two bodies land in the creakiest bed in all of Indianapolis.

And suddenly Steve has given up on the idea of falling back asleep so quickly. Because his bedroom window is right next to Billy's; their apartments perfect mirrors of one another after all, and through the slightly cracked open window frame, he hears things he's not supposed to.

He looks at the open window, Billy's voice seeping through, rough and slurred from far too many drinks tonight, but _oh so lewd_. Curses at an unkempt volume for everyone to hear, not caring for _how people might react_.

Steve closes his eyes tightly, and he can almost imagine it all. _Billy. On all fours. Naked. Head in the pillow. Ass in the air. Cheeks spread. Inviting him inside._

Carefully, he scoots closer to where the breeze blows at his curtain, a singing of _obscene promises_ like a siren's song. Without really thinking twice, his hand reaches to push the window up higher, exposing his thoughts in such a simple gesture.

But even the cool air can't help with how _feverishly hot_ his skin grows, crawling through him, underneath his shirt and _far down_. Past the elastic of his trunks. Heart beats heavily in his chest, pumping blood to only one source now.

Shame mixes sourly with _arousal_ , stirring together in his stomach like oil and water. He's burning up, as if his skin is on fire and he sits up to tear off his tee, finding only brief relief till he hears Billy curse loudly.

“ _Fuck_ ” and “ _shit_ ” and “ _ah_ ” feeds Steve's imagination well beyond what would be considered satisfying; every sound supplied pooling together at the base of his dick that _grows without even the slightest touch_. How can one man's voice do so much; be so enticing that there is nothing else to desire in the world.

He licks at his lips, missing dearly the taste of Billy there. It's only been four days since they last kissed on the fire escape, not long enough for the sensation of their _hard cocks grinding together_ to have faded even the slightest bit.

And now he's treated to sacred sounds. Oddly enough he doesn't feel _jealous_ , no, this is... _exciting, forbidden_. Like _live porn from the way Billy moans and coos out_.

“ _Fuck, right there_ ,” Billy groans out loud enough for Steve to hear every single _indecent intention_.

He doesn't even bother with palming at the _intense bulge beneath his trunks_ , just kicks them off faster than anything else he's ever done before, and lies back down as close to the window as possible.

A hiss escapes as his hand wraps around his _aching cock, quick to find a satisfactory pace to alleviate the tension_. With eyes squeezed tight and ears perked, he can dream up near perfect images of Billy, even though he hasn't seen him naked for _years_.

Gasps for air and chokes on his moans as he fights to stay quiet. _What if Billy hears and it all stops._

_Mmmh Billy... Billy... Billy, Billy, Billy..._

_Fuck, oh- Billy_ on top, bouncing something so wonderfully up and down in Steve's lap, abs and chest glistening with sweat, grin wide with a teasing tongue out to lick across soft lips, _so soft lips_. His _fat cock just begging for release as he rides Steve._

_A-ah- shit- Billy_ bent over his dining table, moaning out Steve's name, gym shorts stretched around those thick thighs, restricting him as Steve stands behind, skin slapping together something so obscenely and loud.

“Do you have a condom?” an unfamiliar voice asks.

_What?_ It tears Steve from his rhythm matching the tempo set by Billy as he was getting fingered. And he frowns at the interruption. Holds on tight at the base of his sensitive prick and listens.

“Y-yeah, drawer- there-” Billy's voice this time, and the bed creaks as the two of them shuffles around.

_Come on_ , Steve misses those sounds already, as if someone interrupted his favorite song.

“ _Ahh_ ,” Billy sings out beautifully, “shit- oh-”

And the rhythm they set is apparent in his tone.

Steve bites on his lower lip as he once again can hear nothing but how Billy cries out from pleasure next door, the bed creaking, and his hand moves once more; up over his head to spread pre cum as far as he can. _It's dry_ , and his lotion is all the way out in the bathroom, but the slight discomfort is worth it when he can hear _every single little curse that falls from Billy's fucked out throat_.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as if it'll help him conjure up those scenes again.

But it's not Billy he's with now. He hears him, loud and clear and _bawdy_ , but his mind recalls the showers back in high school, and Steve's bent forward; hands on the pipe for support, underneath a running shower.

_Go away._

A tongue dipping inside him, hands on his hips, freckles pressed against pale skin, and he remembers the sensation so vividly it still sends shivers of delight through him. It should have been Billy. He _wishes_ it was Billy.

_Imagines_ that it's _Billy_. _Girthy and veiny cock stretching him out_.

_Mmhnn ah-_ He wants him so fucking bad- _oh God-_ any way. _Inside him, around him. Ass, dick, mouth._

“ _Fuck- harder- fuck me harder!_ ”

And the bed hits the wall, soft _thump thump thumping_ , it would almost me humoristic if it wasn't for the way it _burns so brightly in Steve's leaking erection,_ to know that Billy likes it hard and rough.

Hair pulling, balls slapping, biting and scratching, gross with spit and cum and lube everywhere, a slippery mess. Taut muscles, waxed chest, golden curls, sweaty skin. A mouth made for saying _Steve's name_.

He wants to say _his_ name. Wants to call out for _Billy_ and beg him for more, any way he wants it he'll get it.

Steve bent over in the showers, Billy _deep inside him_ , biting at his shoulder and whispering out only the _filthiest little things as he pounds into him_.

_Ah- shit-_ he's so fucking close, hips lifting off of the bed as he tenses up his legs, breath hitching.

“ _I'm- I'm close-_ ”

_Yes, fuck,_ how he wishes he could see Billy's face now as Steve jerks off to the rhythmic beat of the bed frame punching against their shared wall. Wants him to know that he's right there, too, how he's fighting back the waves that wants to drown him with euphoria, because he wants them to cum together in harmony.

Fist strong in his sheets as he waits for Billy to reach his crescendo; the one final note to the little voyeuristic musical Steve's been enjoying so reverently.

And if it isn't the most heavenly sound there's ever been; Billy emptying out his lungs with curses and moans and a slurred “ _Yes- oh God!_ ” that brings Steve to his own white-hot climax. Back arches till he's a bridge crossing his bed, waves of bliss washes through him and paints his chest white as he stops breathing, toes curling, body a sweaty mess.

His arm _incredibly sore_ from what has been the most intense masturbation session since he ever discovered the art of self-pleasure. He inhales, stuttering with lungs that begs for air, and falls limp and boneless onto his own bed, that thankfully barely creaks at all.

Whilst catching his breath, he gives a tiny, barely noticeable “ _fuck,_ ” and exhaustion nearly pulls him back to sleep.

He didn't hear the guy Billy's with cum, maybe he did, maybe he didn't, that doesn't really matter. What does matter, is the fact that now _jealousy sets in with the chilly night air._

Because whoever is on the other side of this wall now gets to spend the intimate afterglow together with _Billy Hargrove_ , arms wrapped around each other, maybe a quick shower to clean off...

_Sex_ is one thing, so primal and urgent that he can't blame Billy for having sought out what Steve isn't ready to give yet, but _caring_ is different.

This isn't the first time he's heard Billy in the company of other people, no he's _quite popular_ with the ladies, but this _is_ the first time he's heard Billy with a guy before and it _makes him ache even more_. As if tonight has been what he needed to _truly realize that being intimate with Billy like that is absolutely possible_.

_That Billy won't change his mind, push him away, call him names. That Billy really is into guys, too_.

All Steve needs now is courage... and a quick shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live in an apartment complex with as thin walls as these, but trust me, I am grossly romanticising the concept in this story hahaha


	4. Pizza, Magnum PI, and No Touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth time Steve is woken up at night, it's because some asshole decided to order pizza past midnight, and now the delivery guy is knocking at the wrong fucking door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got super carried away!!!! Oh but what a pleasure it was to write, so do enjoy it just the same~

Steve's sleeping schedule has become... unstable barely seems to cover it... erratic? Yeah, that fits, so the fact that he is fast asleep at 1am already is pretty impressive actually.

And yet, he is surprisingly composed when his doorbell rings and tears him from a rather lovely dream he would have preferred to _finish_.

Daisy's by the door before he is, teeth exposed as she growls threateningly at whoever the fuck is at his door at this hour, and maybe Steve is too tired to stop his dog from barking and scaring off the person who's borderline harassing him right now.

“Daisy, sit,” Steve groans and rubs his eyes.

And of course she does as commanded, but her eyes never blink as she stares at the door, ready to _go_ at the right words.

Steve looks through the peephole in the door and finds a... stranger standing on the other side. He had half expected it to be Billy again, probably drunk or something, but no this guy is taller, a beard and dark hair that vanishes up under his cap. And in his hands he's holding a... fucking pizza box.

_I'm gonna kill Billy_ , Steve thinks to himself and pinches his nose. They haven't been neighbors for more than maybe half a year by now, and this is the 7th time Billy has ordered pizza to be delivered... at Steve's door.

He grabs his wallet from the table next to the front door, and opens up for the poor delivery guy working impossible hours.

“A meat tornado pizza for... Billy Hard-grove?” the guy asks and looks at a receipt.

“Yeah, no, that's my neighbor, but...” Steve squints from the harsh light in the hallway and rummages through his wallet. “I'll take it to him; here. Keep the change.”

The pizza guy doesn't say any more, just stifles a yawn and accepts the money, before walking down the way he came from.

_You and me both, buddy,_ Steve thinks and feels more than encouraged to yawn as well, then looks at Daisy sitting oh so pretty and patient in his hallway.

Then he looks at the pizza. “Guess I'll be right back.”

  
  


Barely does he get to knock on the door before it swings right open, and he's greeted with a wide, toothy grin, as Billy stands in the opening.

He is _drenched in sweat_ , beads rushing over his well toned chest, down abs that are definitely more refined than last he saw them, but it's been years now. Still... _good to know he's keeping fit_. All he's wearing is a pair of gray sweatpants that hang so low, you _should_ be able to see the border of his trunks, _and yet..._

“Oh, did my pizza _accidentally_ get delivered to the wrong door _again?_ ” he asks through curled lips and a brow raised in faked surprise.

Steve has to tear his eyes away from where they had fallen all too low, and from the glint in Billy's eyes he could only _guess_ at to what his neighbor is thinking right now. _A well educated guess_.

“How hard is it to remember that you fucking live in number 6, not 7?” Steve groans with not-entirely-authentic irritation, and shoves the pizza box against Billy's chiseled pecs.

“Sorry,” he whispers as a response with no sincerity, and licks his lips _slowly_. “I'll try harder next time. Since you're here anyways, want a slice?”

And Steve says “Sure,” before even thinking about it. He's probably just too tired to fight the spellbinding flash of teeth that Billy's showing off right now, yeah, it has nothing to do with how there's one bead of sweat rolling down from his collarbone, over a pec, sliding across abs like water on a washboard.

“Why are you awake and ordering pizza this late anyways?” he asks and follows closely behind Billy as they venture further in.

Steve hasn't been in his apartment since he helped Billy inside, drunk beyond all cognitional function nearly, but that was two weeks ago or so. It's still as shockingly clean as ever, but from what Steve can hear through those paper-thin walls, he's got good reason to keep it neat and tidy, as women love it when a man appears responsible. _Men too, it seems_.

There's a few empty beer cans on a dresser next to his bed, and an ashtray in the windowsill, but other than that it's clean, and it makes Steve feel kinda shitty and insecure about his own mess of an apartment, with laundry on the floor and school work scattered across any available space.

“Couldn't sleep, so I decided to lift a bit, and exercise makes me hungry, so one thing lead to another, and here we are.” He gestures for Steve to sit on the bed with the pizza, and somehow his lips twist into something so much more... _mischievous_ ; a sight that _tickles._

The only other place to sit is by the small dining table with four chairs, which would have made more sense, but Steve's not going to complain about sitting on Billy's bed... with Billy.

“And where do I fit into all of this?” Steve asks, and although the bed creaks something so terribly when he sits on it, it's all too comfortable compared to his own.

“What, you don't like _sausage_?” Billy asks and licks his lips, but then laughs in such an honest way - not at all in tone with the way he's watching Steve on his bed, eyes so interested in how he's only wearing trunks and a tee. “I'm not going to eat a whole pizza on my own. And don't even suggest 'cold pizza', that's _disgusting_ ,” he says with conviction.

“ _Fine_ ,” Steve scoffs with a wry smile and flips open the box. “I would have guessed you'd be out drinking tonight or something.”

“Hmm...” Billy hums as he contemplates something unknown, and wipes away all that fresh, gleaming sweat with a towel he throws back onto his bench. “Not tonight,” is all he ends up saying.

And the bed dips and groans under his muscular weight, as he sits on the other side of the pizza box that has been placed in the middle of the mattress, and grabs a slice as well.

Steve tries not to stare, but _fuck_ if that isn't near impossible, when Billy's sitting practically naked with only gray sweats keeping him decent - a thick and curly happy trail dipping below the waistline. Seems that he still waxes his chest, though... not that Steve's noticed or anything.

“So, uhm,” he tries but his mouth is all too dry. “Wanna talk about why you can't sleep?”

“Nope,” Billy responds quickly and pops the p. He doesn't meet with Steve's curious gaze. “I just want to eat pizza and watch TV.”

But can't he do that alone? Does Steve _have_ to be here?

Whether that answer would be yes or no, he finds himself _wanting_ to be here, on Billy's bed, eating a gross pizza and watching shitty late-night TV. So he doesn't care to question it further; just watches as Billy reaches for the remote and the screen flickers on.

  
  


And as they make their way through the pizza, only three slices left now, Billy never looks away from the TV; never looks at Steve, who is _aching_ for his attention. Because he still remembers the last time they hung out at night so _fervently_ ; the memory of how searing his lips had been... how _thick_ his _erection was_. How _hard_ Steve had been. Would it be safe to make a move now? He wants to feel those calloused hands on him _so fucking bad_ , and have those sharp canines bite into him.

But maybe he didn't invite him in for _that_.

It feels like he's farther away than what the bed allows for, his eyes lost in the commercials that runs after The Dukes of Hazzard just finished, occasionally shifting around, almost as if he's... nervous? Or maybe that's just Steve's mind playing tricks on him, because Billy doesn't _get_ nervous.

Mostly he's mean, occasionally charming, very _very_ rarely is he “nice”, but nervous just doesn't seem like an emotion he'd ever feel, what with all the bravado and confidence.

Yet he never says a word as they watch old re-runs of the Duke's getting into all kinds of bullshit adventures. Doesn't even comment on how _sexy_ Daisy looks in those tiny shorts. But Steve also doesn't mention that that's where his dog got her name from, so maybe they're even when it comes down to blame someone for the _somewhat awkward silence_.

But when the theme for Magnum, P.I. runs on the TV, and Tom Selleck shows up, all topless and sweaty, Steve can't help but crack a smile that warms his cheeks.

And apparently Billy notices. “What?” he asks with a turn of the lips himself.

“It's just... I love this show, but haven't had the time to watch anything lately; I've been too busy with school and work.” Steve shakes his head and brushes back the unkempt locks that falls down.

“Well,” Billy says and shifts around in the bed, possibly just an inch closer as they _finally talk again_. “They run old episodes every night at 2am or so.”

“Wait, it's 2?!” Steve nearly shouts and whips his head to find Billy's clock by the bedside table.

2:03am. They've been sitting in silence, watching TV and eating pizza with far too much barbecue sauce on for almost an hour.

“What, is it past your bedtime, princess?” Billy mocks with a laugh and _definitely enjoys_ how _slightly panicked_ Steve looks.

“I was actually already asleep when _you_ woke me up,” Steve groans, albeit with a hint of a smile, until he turns his head back around and catches how _apologetic_ Billy looks.

“Oh...” Billy mumbles and turns away.

“Hey, don't beat yourself up over it.” Steve's lips spread a bit wider, a bit _kinder_ , and he grabs another slice of pizza, then lies, “I was hungry anyways, so.”

Maybe Billy knows that that's not true, and maybe he doesn't care. He simply smiles, _contend maybe_ , and leans down on his side - so close to Steve that he feels the bed dip near his legs.

And Steve's heart beats _differently_ at how close the other is now. He can practically feel the heat emanating off of Billy's bare torso. They have kissed twice now, dry humped the same times, and he has even heard how Billy sounds when he's _getting fucked hard_ , yet every slight interaction still makes his blood pump.

He never notices just how lonely he is, till Billy's right _there- here_ , so near he can smell his sweat, count his freckles, feel his body heat. His own skin hyper aware of _everything_.

  
  


Several minutes pass; they're halfway through this episode of Magnum and there's only one slice of pizza left, when now Billy's the first to talk, still lying oh so close to bare thighs.

“Don't tell anyone, but it's because of Tom Selleck that I decided to grow a mustache,” Billy grins beneath his dear, iconic, _stupid fucking mustache_ , and stares at the screen, at Tom Selleck's thick, dark facial hair.

“What, really?” Steve can't help the way his lips perk up, and he looks down at Billy; eyes just below that dark blonde hair, at how he's grinning, perhaps a bit embarrassed to share this fun personal trivia.

“Yeah, I just... I remember seeing him for the first time and thinking _what a man_.” He runs his fingers across the less significant mustache that he can grow. “And I mean, we both know Tom Selleck must be _swimming in pussy_ , and the ladies do love it.”

And he looks up, catching Steve in the way he's staring, _almost longingly so_ , and Billy winks; a gesture that _immediately_ paints Steve's pale cheeks beet red.

“I-I guess...” Steve stammers forth, and finds himself locked in an _intense_ gaze with those perfect baby blues.

Eyes that only leaves his as Billy moves on the bed to grab the pizza box, and places it safely on the floor. The springs beneath them groan as Billy gets on all fours next to Steve, and he leans so close that Steve can feel his words slip across his skin.

“Can I kiss you?” his voice a gentle wisp that plays with Steve's heartstrings beautifully like a harp.

And Steve sings out, “ _Yes._ ”

Even the lightest brush of their lips sends heated waves through Steve, as he closes his eyes and permits Billy to touch him with reverence. Oh how warm and soft the embrace of a man can be, as if there's nothing else left in his world but the touch of another. And Billy brings up a hand to cup Steve's face, to run his thumb over the moles there and it elicits a pleased little _whimper_.

Steve's own hands finds their way to Billy's strong neck, and pulls him closer with delicate yet _urgent need_ to deepen their kiss.

“ _Fuck, Steve_ ,” Billy breathes out in a tone so unfamiliarly soft coming from lips that usually only know how to grin and smirk.

When Steve hums at that, Billy takes it as an _ok_ for him to advance further, crawls closer to Steve, whose legs unfurl and spread for him, allowing him to slot perfectly between knees.

Billy brings a hand down Steve's side, till he pauses it by the start of a hip and tenderly rubs circles there with his thumb.

A touch so far south it makes Steve's dick grow _hard, fast_ , and there's nothing to do but open his mouth and beg for Billy's tongue to meet his own. And at first it's such a _surprisingly gentle_ movement, almost as if Billy continues _worrying about the willingness of Steve_ , as if he's just _waiting_ for Steve to stop it all and run away.

But last time he had been so _eager_ and _confident_ , and that's what Steve wants again; to have Billy's rough hands on him, _everywhere_ , lips rudely taking all they can get. So he locks his legs around Billy's hips, an action that automatically _draws their bodies flush together_ , and there's a _harsh groan_ from inside a tanned throat.

“ _Ah shit, Stevie, you're so-_ ” his voice fails him as Steve _tentatively rolls his hips_.

“ _Mmh yeah, Billy_ ,” Steve coos out and places a hand on the mattress for support, as he continues _grinding, sparks ignite as their growing erections collide_. “ _Haa, I want you to touch me._ ”

“ _Oh yeah?_ ” And there it is. The drawl, the tone dripping with _delicious intent_ , teeth and desires bared. “Tell me how.”

Billy remains still, forcing himself not to do _anything Steve hasn't told him to_.

And Steve sits upright, tears off his own shirt to expose warm, soft skin to the intense stare of iced waters, everything so visible in the brightly lit apartment, and honestly it makes him feel a bit... _lesser_. Billy is all hard muscle and sun-kissed skin, waxed and perfect and _envious_.

His stomach a tar pit filled with struggling butterflies, he reaches down to grab on to Billy's wrist and places it against his abdomen, hand flat on top of his as he guides them up over soft flesh that burns under Billy's calloused palm.

Oceanic eyes never leaves the sight of how slowly Steve blinks, how dark his eyes are, how he bites into his lower lip, Billy enchanted by it all.

Pleasure grows from light crooning to an open-mouthed moan, as fingers graze a nipple, and _oh does Billy grin something so wicked at that_.

“You like that baby?” He sticks out his tongue and _presses his thumb over a quickly perky nipple_.

“ _God, yeah-_ ” Steve lets spill and _grinds deeper onto Billy's crotch_.

Crude skin runs continuously over sensitive buds, each touch igniting sparks that shoots down in bright white, merging with the jolts from where he _leaks in his too tight trunks_ , blinding his senses till he can no longer notice how nervous he is.

And Billy leans closer to nibble along Steve's jaw. “ _Mmh arh,_ you're so _gorgeous, princess,_ grinding yourself so _good_ against me,” he _growls_ , “Got me _so fucking hard_.”

“ _Fuck- ah- Billy-_ ” Steve runs his hand up Billy's strong arm, paying close attention to how _thick_ his biceps have gotten, and holds firmly onto his shoulder for leverage, as he drives on top with _vigor_. Tips his head back to allow wet lips access down his throat, and feels how that mustache tickles.

“Come on, _pretty boy_ ,” Billy grunts against a fresh hickey, and presses his nose into the crook of Steve's neck. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I-I want you to- _shit- a-ah-_ ” He finds himself lost in how perfectly their bodies connect.

“Use your words.” Billy grins something so distinctively to match his tone, and moves up to kiss softly just under Steve's jaw.

“Want your mouth... on my chest,” Steve breathes out, and the flush that has dyed his body deepens in hue.

Billy chuckles something so deep and _primal_. “Want me to _lick your tits, Stevie?_ ”

The movement to Steve's hips stutter at that question, and he moans a bit louder. “ _Yes- please!_ ”

“Hmm...” Billy contemplates it, dips down to kiss and nibble and lick across Steve's collarbone. “Think you can keep from cumming too soon if I do that?”

“I-I don't know-” Which is the truth, because the fuse has already been lit, burning brightly through him and moving faster with every inch he feels so feverishly against his own _hard flesh_.

“It's been a while since someone has touched you like this, huh?” his tone less teasing now somehow, and instead more... _compassionate?_

“ _Y-yeah..._ ” Steve utters and turns to look at how _completely turned on Billy is_ ; mouth a _bawdy o_ , eyes _heavy and dark with lust_.

Steve won't need to read his mind to know _how badly he wants to fuck him_. And oh if that doesn't force him too close to the edge- _to spilling into his briefs_.

“It's an honor, _princess_ ,” he chuckles out and lips quirk up for a brief moment, but falls right down again to allow out rough and _heady groans_. “Can I-” _a hard exhale,_ “can I take off your underwear?”

“Mhm,” comes the response as Steve can't manage words now, and falls backwards onto the mattress that _creaks something so familiarly_.

Broad fingers rushes to hook onto the elastic that sits around Steve's hips, and he lifts up his ass as his _throbbing cock gets freed, feels it slap wetly against his lower abdomen_. He has to fight the immediate urge to touch himself; to jerk off and relieve himself of the intense heat trapped beneath desirous skin.

“ _God, Steve,_ you got such a fucking _gorgeous dick_ ,” Billy says with _honest-to-god wonder_. “I wanna suck you off so bad...”

Hands glide across Steve's heaving chest, smooth stomach, and down to press thumbs into wiry pubic hair, all with Billy kneeling between spread thighs that exposes _everything_.

“N-no, _Billy_ ,” his voice a clear mix of _longing for contact and irritation in the lack of it_. “I want you to _kiss me_.”

And Steve is kinda embarrassed to put his thoughts out there like that, so fucking needy and lonely in a city of thousands. He reaches out for Billy who's too far away for him to touch from where he's lying with his head on a pillow.

There's something in the way Billy looks down at him; something he's seen before years ago, back in high school when he'd catch Billy staring at him. A look he might have recognized as something forbidden, if he had been able to see beyond his own rage and irritation and anxiety. And here it is again, at night, in Billy's bed, lamps putting both of them on display in the yellow light, explosions on the TV as Tom Selleck saves the day again.

But neither of them are ready to unpack what it _might_ mean.

So Billy bends forward, looming over Steve, hands on either side of his face as he blushes like a damn bride. And he leans down, careful as to not let their bodies touch, leave Steve hanging with only their lips meeting. Wants to hear him beg some more.

Steve is quick to become impatient with nothing more than heated kisses and dancing tongues; grabs on to both of Billy's shoulders to urge him closer, but he remains stock-still, built like a fucking brick wall with arms like pillars of steel to hold him up.

“ _Billy..._ ”

“ _Yeah?_ ” the tone of that singular word reveals just how cocky and shitty he is, the grin accentuating his intentions.

“I _need you_ to _touch me_ ,” Steve whines and bucks up his hips to meet just some semblance of friction.

“ _Oh?_ ” Billy curls his lips like he's the fucking devil. “ _Need_ me to touch you, or _want_ me to touch you?”

“I _want_ you to _touch me, fuck-_ ” He's left to chase his high on his own, as his legs tremble beneath him where he's pushing up his _painfully hard dick_ to rub against Billy's own, still trapped beneath sweatpants.

“Want me to take you in my hand? Jerk you off till your toes curl? Till you see God?” Billy teases with a voice of gravel into Steve's ear, then licks at the shell and bites at the lobe.

“ _Yes, Billy, please,_ ” he _begs_ and _croons_ , “Want you to take _both of us_ in your hand and _make me cum_.”

Can any man say no to such a _delicious request?_ Billy sure as fuck can't, and brings their lips together all too hard, to taste just how much Steve means those words, tongue spelling out every little _erotic plea_.

And when he sits up to push his pants down just far enough to uncover his own _rock hard cock_ , Steve lets out a _delighted gasp_ _at how thick and veiny Billy is_.

_Sure_ he stole glances back in the showers in high school after PE and basket, but it could never have prepared him for how _big and prideful Billy's dick can swell up to be_.

Billy licks his lips as he sees how he's being _admired_ , and if he wasn't already at full mast, he would have grown at all the _attention he's getting_. “Like what you see?” He brings down a hand to stroke himself with a firm hand, eyes locked to those pretty lips he wants to feel wrapped around his _steely cock_.

“You're so... _big_ ,” Steve moans out at the sight of it all, and tentatively reaches out-

But Billy's free hand grabs him by the wrist. “Not today, _princess_ ,” he growls out like a fucking predator that has caught its prey finally.

With a rather mean grip on him, Billy leans back down and forces Steve's arm up above his head, pinning it to the pillow there and bringing out _a sound most excited and naughty_.

Which does all the right things to Billy, makes his prick jump eagerly in his fist and feels pre cum dribble down.

“Give me your other hand,” he _demands_ , and Steve would never dream of disobeying.

Both his wrists can fit in Billy's strong hand as he immobilizes Steve near completely with his arms raised.

“ _Oh fuck Billy,_ ” Steve cries out in euphoria as he finds himself unable to get free, and it just brings him back to the first night where Billy had pinned him to the wall. He doesn't find time to be worried about how he's _so close to climax._

Billy's laugh like thunder rumbling beneath sculpted pecs, and he breathes hotly against Steve's lips. “Yeah you like that? Like it when I hold you down like this? All powerless and trapped?”

Every word sending hot flashes through Steve and making his untouched erection weep onto his stomach. He gives chase to that filthy mouth, but Billy leans away from it.

“Listen to you, moaning like a bitch in heat.” He moves down to lick his tongue flat across a sweaty cheek. “You think you can cum untouched like this?”

And Steve nods hurriedly before letting out a lewd “ _Yes!_ ” He's lying flat on his back, writhing in _deep rooted pleasure_ that grows intensely with every touch of that tongue, the pressure around his wrists, the smell of Billy's sweat oozing off of his searingly hot body. It all gathers in perfected harmony between his legs where his _cock_ won't stop _kicking_ and _twitching_.

“That's so fucking hot, _baby_ ,” Billy groans out and moves his free hand down to pump at himself.

Steve digs his heels into the sheets, feels his abs flex at the sight of Billy _pleasuring himself to Steve's moans and gasps_. It's truly been too long since he's felt so _desired and wanted and needed_. The way curses mixed with his name falls from hissing lips and exposed teeth urges him on.

“ _Billy- Billy please-_ ” he begs some more and pushes his head deep into his pillow, face covered in his dark brown hair.

“What- _shit-_ what can I do? _Anything,_ just tell me,” Billy's voice hitching and fucked out, betraying just how close he truly is, accompanied with a hurried hand and _animalistic grunts_.

“M-my chest- touch me with your tongue, _fuck-_ ” he pants, and they both know that this will be the last straw for him, as is evident in the way he's sweating and squirming.

Billy barely waits for him to finish that sentence before lips fly across skin sensitive from plentiful kisses, licks slight apologies over the purple bruises he _accidentally_ sucked there, as he makes his travel down brief.

His tongue darts out to enthusiastically play with a raised nipple, starved for attention, Billy's wet and slick muscle working away at it with impressive dexterity that speaks volumes of just how often he's had the chance. Rolls it, soaks up his entire tit as he closes his mouth around the supple flesh there, sucking and biting and nibbling, egged on by the _beautiful notes Steve reaches with no restraint_.

“ _Fuck- ah- ahh, right there, yes! Oh just like that_ -” Steve continues to sing out, body quaking with _unadulterated lust._ “ _I'm so close- Billy-_ ”

And oh how Billy wants to go up there, groan into his ear about _what a good boy he is, how gorgeous he sounds, how he wants to watch him cum all over his pale stomach_ , but he is duty bound to never let his tongue off of Steve's burning skin where he can taste how hard his heart beats, the stuttering of his lungs as he moans and calls out Billy's name again and again and again.

When it all stops, as Steve lets his voice fly to the high heavens, able to wake everyone in the fucking world as he cums, legs tensing up till they're immovable, eyes rolled back to watch the stars behind his lids explode like fireworks, dick kicking and jumping as it empties out in long streams that reaches his chest.

As if moved by instinct, Billy can't help but move off of the bullied nipple as Steve comes down from his loud and _ecstatic climax_ , and moves his tongue to lap up a few droplets of Steve's cum that has painted a beautiful, abstract piece of art on his flushed, heaving body.

“Shit, _Billy_ ,” Steve breathes out as he watches, voice full of blissful exhaustion. “That's so fucking sexy.”

Billy presses his forehead hard against Steve's chest and pinches his eyes together, as the salty taste of Steve's semen on his tongue brings him over the edge, and he runs his hand with brutish force over aching flesh that sparks and twitches, cum erupting from the fat head and spilling all over Steve's naked shape, fluids mixing together in a pool by his navel. He grunts till he's hoarse and depleted, Steve's encouraging coos so far away he feels almost deaf to the world.

And after the last drop of energy has left his spent cock, he leans and tips to the side; collapsing next to Steve who's all too close to falling asleep in a bed that isn't his own, yet more comfortable than what his can manage.

“Holy shit Harrington,” Billy chuckles with an airy tone and stares at his ceiling.

Steve can only manage a lazy hum for a response and lolls his head towards Billy, eyes closed and body completely limp.

Billy looks at him, at how he appears to be in seventh heaven right now, and dares to move closer, to _plant a gentle kiss to his sweaty forehead_. He continues watching how calm Steve looks, enraptured by his affable beauty, but his heart then beats all wrong and _dangerous_.

“Come on Steve; you can't fall asleep like this. Get up and go take a shower.”

The groan that comes from Steve is almost laughable, at how utterly tired he is, but dares not to move lest the pool on his stomach spills onto the sheets.

Billy gets up then, and offers a hand down to Steve to get him standing as well.

Who cares what time it is now, all that matters is _Steve_ and _Billy_ , and their hands locked together as they walk towards Billy's bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely headcanon that both Billy and Steve had some sort of sexual awakening when seeing Tom Selleck on their TV's for the first time when they were younger, I mean....... have you seen him????? Daddy??


	5. Do you know a Billy Hargrove?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fifth time Steve is woken up at night, it's when a phone rings and apparently Billy talks about Stevie to his friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as the previous chapter, but still quite up there it seems!

His phone rings. The white, dirty handset chimes something so viciously from where it hangs in the hallway of his tiny apartment, filing the one room with a painful noise the penetrates Steve's deep slumber and tears him awake.

He groans and complains and covers his face with a pillow to scream into, as the wall-mounted phone remains relentless in its pursuit of getting him up and standing. School homework crinkle as he steps over an ocean of papers, kicks and trips over a few books that stands like skyscrapers emerging from the busy floor, and nearly slips on the haphazardly thrown diner uniform.

A hand goes to pinch and rub away the dried up sleep in his eyes as he answers with an all too irritated, “Hello?”

Loud, blaring music erupts through the receiver, a thousand voices talking and laughing something so painfully to Steve's blindingly exhausted mind, and he has to hold the phone at a greater distance to not become deaf.

“Yeah hi, is this a uhh Stevie Harrington?” a woman asks with grand volume.

 _Who the fuck-_ why is some stranger calling him at nearly 4am, knowing him by name and all?

“This is him.” He presses his forehead against the wall, wanting nothing but a few more hours of sleep.

“Oh, I thought Stevie was a girl,” the woman sounds legitimately surprised at this.

“You might have the wrong number then,” _Stevie_ grumbles out.

“Well maybe, uhm do you know a Billy Hargrove?”

 _Of fucking course Billy Hargrove is behind this_.

“Yeah... yeah I know him...” he groans out, truly wishing he didn't right now, as his bed begs him to return.

“Billy gave me this number to call in case he needed a lift home, and, well... he's...”

“Wasted?” Steve sighs with exasperation.

“Yeah he's pretty drunk right now; definitely in no state to get home on his own.”

“Can't you drive him?”

Daisy moves up next to Steve and lifts up her head so that he can scratch her golden fur without having to bend down.

“Well no, it's at my party, so I can't just leave.”

“How about he sleeps on your couch or something?” _Please_ , Steve just wants to dream on and not wake up for another twelve hours.

“Nope, I've already promised other friends a spot there. Can you please just come and bring him home safely?”

And he _thunks_ his head against the wall a good few times before groaning out, “Fuck, shit, fine ok, give me your address and I'll drive now.”

It took him far too long to find the right address, but he doesn't usually go driving around in Indianapolis this late, and since he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart, Billy has no right to complain about it taking so long, or he'll just leave him in the gutter somewhere.

 _Well_... he wouldn't, no, that bastard has grown on him the last month or so, _for quite obvious reasons_. But it is a curse most of the time.

Driving down Alabama St, it isn't hard to venture a guess for which of the numerous apartment complexes is his destination, as lights and voices and awfully loud music erupts from behind a row of windows up on the third floor.

Steve allows himself a moment to grovel a bit more; forehead pressed against the steering wheel as he has already started to practice his part of an oncoming argument, because he will sure as fuck give Billy all kinds of hell for having dragged him out here like this.

The front door is propped open by a brick, the hallways slim and empty, the stairs grimy and sticky.

He hardly has to look at the names on the doors to find the culprit behind what's undoubtedly keeping the entire neighborhood awake, and looks for a moment at the name plate.

A. Washington.

Really he can just turn around and go home, pretend he couldn't find the place and fall asleep again. It's what Billy would do, right? But it's that thought that makes him knock, because _Steve is a nice guy, a good guy_.

A slight startle makes him jump as the door _flings open_ , and his all too tired mind reels from it, as a young woman about his age stands in the door.

She's _pretty_ , dark skin, intense, short curls in a perfect black, eyes big and brown, wearing a colorful crop-top and jeans so tight they _must_ hurt. It's nice to see that Billy has broadened his taste in women, or friends, or _whoever this person is to Billy._

 _Steve's not jealous_.

“Stevie?” she asks and looks him up and down.

He hadn't bothered getting dressed in anything other than what was nearby, which just happened to be some really bright blue slacks and a polo shirt in the same color; the uniform of the diner he works nights at most shifts.

“It's actually just _Steve_ ,” he says and rubs his eyes with still irritated fingers.

“Oh it's just... the way Billy talks about you, I thought you were a girl,” she chuckles a bit and crosses her arms as she continuously looks him up and down.

_Billy... talks about him?_

“Not to be rude or nothing, but I am _very tired_ , and would like to just pick up the trash and go right home again.”

And she laughs with a wide smile and nods. “Yeah I'll go get him.”

 _Billy talks about him?_ Steve's mind works at that thought with fervor, twisting and turning it to see if there's perhaps something to it, because there has to be, right? _Billy talks to other people... about Steve._ _Billy's friends knows who he is_.

_What the fuck does that mean?_

He returns to this world as the door opens up again and there he is, eyes low and blown, hair a complete mess of curls, on unsteady feet and smiling like he's never been happier.

“Stevie!” Billy calls out and slaps his hand down on Steve's shoulder with far too much force.

“Holy shit,” Steve exhales, “how much has he had to drink?”

“Far too much, obviously,” the woman laughs and helps Billy out the door so that he can lean fully on Steve. “I don't know where he parked his car, but it's probably best it stays there for the night.”

“Yeah,” Steve can only agree.

Billy leans on him with far too heavy a weight, muscular and _clingy_ in a way that Steve has never seen him before. A way that he didn't actually think existed, but perhaps the insane amounts of alcohol consumed has pried open bolted shut doors. He slings one of Billy's arms over his shoulders, and brings one of his own around the other's waist.

“Bye Alicia!” Billy calls out all too loud as they start down the hall.

“Bye Billy, and nice to meet you Stevie!”

He's too tired, irritated, _shocked_ to really give a proper goodbye as well, and settles with waving his free hand in the air and hope that she sees it.

Surprisingly enough, it's not that hard to get Billy down the stairs once he can support himself on the railing there, although Steve dares not to ever remove himself fully from his inebriated “friend's” side.

Billy plops down hard into the passenger seat, causing the old BMW to shake and dip underneath is clumsy body, and Steve even has to help him get his seat belt on.

“I can't believe you came,” Billy's speech slurred as he lolls his head against the seat.

“Can't just leave you out here to die, now can I?” Steve struggles with the goddamn belt that wont lock into the buckle by Billy's hip.

“You're such a _good guy_ , Stevie.”

The belt _clicks_ into place, and as the sober one of the two moves to climb out of where he's leaning over, a warm and rough hand gently grabs him by the chin, keeping him near as blue eyes stare.

And he lets himself be guided to feel soft, blundering lips, to taste absolutely everything Billy has consumed tonight and it is a wonder that he's even alive by now. But Steve closes his eyes and moves into the embrace never the less; lets himself get swept away for just a brief moment of _needed caressing_. He has to hold in a light hum of delight, as Billy lets his tongue out to lazily meet the other for just a short second.

When Billy lets go of him and smiles _happily_. “I'm tired,” he mumbles out.

“Yeah,” Steve can barely talk himself; still oddly shocked by how Billy had just... kissed him in public? Kinda? “Let's get you home.”

“One more step.”

Billy struggles with going up the stairs, as if his legs have become jello, and he relies all too much on Steve to stay upright, but his brow is furrowed in concentration.

“Fuck, you're so heavy, Billy, Jesus,” Steve groans loudly under duress.

“Is... is gravity harder up here?” Billy asks as he drags his feet along the linoleum floor, staring down in irritation as if the natural force of the world is to blame.

“Just stay standing for a bit more, ok? Five more doors and we're at your apartment.” Steve really tries not to sound bothered by all of this, but truthfully he is _exhausted_ from having to carry Billy around like this; has he really gotten so weak? Sure he hasn't found time to exercise since he works three jobs and goes to school, but still... it shouldn't be this near impossible.

Billy's head hangs low, curls like a golden curtain around his mumbling.

“You know I can't hear you, right?” Steve huffs out and stops to readjust his grip around Billy's waist.

“Once I ran to you,” Billy says a bit louder; just enough for the other to hear.

“What?”

And Billy lifts up his head, pupils dilated till there's no more blue surrounding, mouth hanging open all sloppy and breathing toxic fumes. “Now I'll run from you.”

“Oh,” realization dawns on Steve as he recognizes the lyrics.

“This tainted love you've given-”

“Billy, no, _don't_ ,” he can't help but laugh and crack a smile at what's probably about to happen.

“I give you all a boy could give you- come one, Stevie, I know you know this song!” Billy grins and sways his head around as if he can actually hear music still.

“I'm not gonna sing with you!” Lips as wide as they can go till his cheeks burn.

“Take my tears and that's not living-” and he belts out, head thrown back, loud and abrasive that echoes up and down the halls, “Oh!”

Steve snorts rather than laughs, as he attempts to be more considerate of their sleeping neighbors.

Then Billy lolls his head to the side and looks at Steve, who looks back. “Tainted love,” he slurs at a more moderate volume, and _leans closer_. “Tainted love...”

And for the second time tonight, Billy kisses Steve out in the open; outside of the comforts of their own tiny apartments. When Steve doesn't push him away or ask for him to stop, he _moves closer_ , the hand around his waist never leaving, even as they collide with the wall between two front doors. It sits on his hip, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, and possibly even _pulls_ a bit, instinctively so.

Steve stands caught between Billy and a wall once again, with the other drunk as all hell just like the first time. It's been nearly a month, and while the days had been long, _thinking about it all_ , it feels like less than a week now, caged in by muscular arms on either side of his head.

He lets in the tongue that asks for permission gently, and although he tastes so strongly that Steve thinks he could get intoxicated himself just by Billy's spit mixing with his own, he doesn't complain. But Billy pulls away all too soon; still close enough to smell the cologne and feel the body heat, but too far to feel his heated breath graze lips.

Billy looks down between them, taking in as much he can of Steve, then laughs, “What the fuck are you wearing?”

And Steve looks down as well, because _oh right_ , he's probably not looking his most attractive self right now. Slacks and polo in the brightest blue imaginable, and his name tag still attached by the breast.

“What? It's my uniform from work!”

“Hmmm...” Billy hums out in contemplation, and leans back in, breath hot against Steve's neck as he brushes his lips there. “I liked your Scoops uniform better.”

Those words makes pale skin flush redder than the tongue that peeks out to taste his pulse.

“Y-you remember that?” Steve stutters with eyes wide and embarrassed, looking away and down the brightly lit hallway.

“Yeah,” he drawls and brings down the collar of the polo with a finger. “Didn't get to see you in it enough before you moved away from Hawkins.”

“Billy it was _horrible_ ,” Steve groans in a mix of horror of the old uniform and from the way Billy sucks on his neck.

“ _Nah, pretty boy_ , those short shorts? I saw you in it _once_ and baby _your ass was magnificent_.” Billy's other hand goes down to glide up Steve's thigh, hand flat and burning even through the slacks. “ _Fuck I want you so bad, Stevie_.”

And he lifts up his head to lock eyes with how intensely Steve is staring, giving away all too much, but he remains the sensible between the two, as he says,

“I'm not going to have sex with you when you're drunk, Billy.”

The wolfish grin falters immediately, and Billy pulls away slightly, but there's still that hand on his back. It unfurls from where it was fisting at his shirt, to then gently caress the small of his back.

“I want you to remember the first time I let you _blow my fucking mind_ ,” Steve breathes out deep, voice a lewd little thing, and he bites his lip as he briefly gazes down at Billy's open mouth.

But the corners are quick to curl around his mustache, and a tongue goes to lick across Steve's upper lip.

“ _Fine_ ,” he growls, heavy with wanton and thick with alcohol still. “Now help me get home before I pass out.”

Definitely more of an order than request, and Steve just chuckles at it as Billy staggers backwards to allow the brunette freedom again. And this time Billy seems more steady, more clear headed and doesn't need as much support to stay standing, but _definitely clings to Steve anyways_ , one arm slung over him and squeezing tight around one shoulder, his other hand down to hold on top of Steve's own by Billy's left side.

Still it felt like eternity to walk up to his door.

“Give me your keys,” Steve says and props Billy up against the wall.

He's looking dazed with heavy eyes and shoulders slumping as he leans backwards. “I don't think I have them.”

And Steve freezes. Stares. “What... what do you mean you don't think you have them?”

“Think I gave them to Alicia for safekeeping, so that I wouldn't just, y'know, drive home on my own or some shit.” Billy rubs his eyes and smacks his lips with a dry mouth. “Fuck I was just trynna be responsible!”

“And you are _sure_ you don't have them?” Steve's brow furrows and a hand goes up to push his hair aside.

But Billy just grins something near mischievous. “Check my pockets, _pretty boy_ , pat me down.”

Steve _wants_ to be irritated and provoked, but Billy's grin just wipes that all away, and he can't help but smile a bit. So he steps right up into Billy's space, who's nice enough to keep his hands to himself, and Steve decides to start with checking the back pockets, runs his hands up Billy's legs and _grabs on_ _to his ass with both hands_.

“ _Oh_ ,” Billy teases with brows jerking up and a flash of teeth.

All to be found there is three packs of condoms, which just makes Steve smile wider.

“What? I'm responsible!” Billy laughs out as Steve shows him the colorful wrappers, and keeps their gazes locked as he reaches back to stuff them inside again.

“And hopeful,” Steve jokes somewhat, because looking like he does, there's no need to _hope_ for a good lay, no Billy just has to smile right and it's a panty dropper.

Next, he runs his hands along Billy's hips, never retreating his touching of the other who _might be enjoying it a bit too much_ , which is a theory proven once Steve reaches the front fully, and finds a certain bulge obstructing one pocket.

Billy sucks in hard when Steve's hand presses against it just lightly enough for it to be annoying.

“Seriously Billy? You're this hard already?” And Steve has to be strong and patient, because feeling the _hardened flesh_ underneath his palm is... _exciting him_.

“'s all your fault, babe, standing so close to me, _smelling so good_ ,” Billy's voice low and _sensuous_ , and he gives chase for Steve's lips, who in his own sober state moves away far too quickly.

He sighs, exasperated and faking a rather bothered expression, but the smile just wont go away. “Guess you'll have to crash at my place then.”

And Billy cocks an awfully confident brow, a smirk that says all too much stretches across his face, and he once again tries to kiss Steve, but fails as the other simply steps away, and Billy has to catch himself from falling down.

Inside Steve's messy apartment sits Daisy, waiting patiently in the middle of the hallway, not bothered by Billy's presence, as he's been making an effort to befriend her, even going as far as to keep an eye on their routinary walks so that he can just _coincidentally_ be out for a jog and run into them.

And she remains seated on the floor as Billy falls to his knees before her and wraps his arms around her fluffy blonde fur.

“I take it you remember Daisy then?” Steve chuckles at the odd display and places his keys on a hook by the door.

Billy leans back and ruffles around with Daisy's floppy ears, scratches her around the collar and pets her on the top of the head. “I've always wanted a dog,” he says as if he's admitting to some embarrassing childhood dream. “I'd get a bulldog maybe, or like a German shepherd, something _manly_.”

Steve smiles, warmly and affable as he notices just how much Billy is enjoying touching and hugging Daisy. “Yeah, I think that would suit your whole _bad boy_ image very well.”

Billy can't help but laugh and agree, “Yeah, it would, but Neil hates any kind of pet. A... a few times, me and Max would go by the pet shop in Starcourt Mall and look at the puppies. She wanted a German shepherd too... she would have looked badass with one.”

Silence passes over them, Billy gently petting Daisy, Steve watching it with crossed arms and now feeling slightly... morose. Billy had a shit childhood, and Steve really tried not to think of it too much, because while his was bad in its own way, it couldn't compare to the one his high school bully had suffered through.

A sigh escapes. “Come on, you can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch.” He offers his hand down to Billy, who accepts it with no second guessing and stands up.

The moment Billy lands in a bed bigger and newer than his own, he nearly passes out, slouches forward and hangs with his head low and eyes closed.

Steve crouches in front of him and undoes the last few buttons till the shirt slips off, and immediately Billy falls backwards, as if the fabric of his button up had been holding him together, his hair of gold splaying out across dark blue sheets.

Next comes the heavy boots that lands with loud thuds, and following that the rhythmic draw of a zipper going down.

“I thought you said-”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs and can just barely sense the provoking grin on Billy's exhausted face.

His jeans comes off surprisingly easy; considering how snugly they fit, Steve had expected a bit of a struggle, some squirming and pulling, just to then give up halfway and let Billy sleep with his pants on, but no. They fall to the floor as if they were eager to be there. Steve lifts Billy's legs onto the bed and the drunken figure there shifts around till he's no longer lying across the mattress - head now on top of a pillow.

“Goodnight Billy,” Steve says as he tries not to _stare_ at how Billy's still sporting something of a hard on, and turns to make his way to the couch, when-

Billy grabs his wrist. “Just... sleep here next to me?”

He looks down at the gentle grasp, burning feverishly, although whether it's from Billy's body heat or the touch itself he can't tell. And no matter how long he stays still, staring, _shocked_ , Billy doesn't relent. Keeps his fingers locked around the wrist; the only thing moving between them is their chests raising and falling with expectant breaths.

“Okay,” Steve finally exhales, his heart going wild at how tenderly Billy had asked for him to stay.

Last time they did _anything together_ , they shared a quick shower after, but Steve still decided to sleep alone that night, and now...

He slips out of his shoes and socks only with the help of his feet, drops his slacks till they pool around his ankles. His heart and insecurities amps up tenfold as he grabs on to the edge of his shirt. Pauses. Doubts. Steve doesn't look as near excellent as he did four years ago; as Billy still does four years later, even more blindingly so actually. But he's craving to be touched, for skin on skin, to share body heat directly with someone else, even if it is just for one night.

Specifically, he craves for that “someone else” to be Billy.

So with the both of them dressed down to just their underwear now, Steve crawls into bed, over Billy's halfway slumbering body, letting him have the outer side in case he'll need to rush to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Steve lands a bit further away than what is probably necessary, but it's the safest option here, lying on his side a good distance away and admiring the view of the other so calm. Yet barely does he get to settle in and start doubting _everything_ about the current situation, when Billy moves.

Moves _closer_ , into Steve's personal space, who stays stock still as Billy gets comfortable and _near_. Pries his leg between Steve's own, rests his head on Steve's shoulder, nose by his neck and soft kisses across his collarbone, _a hand on his thigh,_ crawling up till fingers cross the border of his briefs and settles there.

Billy lets escape a _pleased little hum_ as the last sign of consciousness, before his breathing falls into a deep, slow, steady pace that feels like a breeze across Steve's chest.

And how is Steve supposed to fall asleep like this? With Billy touching him like it means something, the hand there on his leg, those kisses still so vivid on his skin, breath and heart serene and smooth as if he has finally found peace, while Steve's own is _galloping_ at these signs of _affection_.

He's afraid, that maybe after tonight his bed will grow cold, become too big, too empty, that now there's no going back to normal.

It took him forever to get used to the loneliness again after Nancy, and when he had finally reached a point where _it was fine_ , Billy decided to invade his mind, his bed, his life in general.

But if there is one thing Steve is sure about, it's that he doesn't want it to end this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lesson of this chapter; definitely never drink and drive, and always have a friend come pick you up!! And then share a bed with them, and then???

**Author's Note:**

> I am planning on adding more chapters to this; more times that Billy wakes Steve up at night, but I cannot guarantee anything, so it's labelled "Finished" for now
> 
> But I am working on a second chapter already, so I'll see you there!


End file.
